Folie à Trois
by shipperatheartrealistbynature
Summary: Was I seriously going to try and seduce *both* my ridiculously attractive co-workers at once? Cam, Brennan, Booth, and heat. Lots of it. Spoiler-free. Come give this unlikely trio a shot and I'll sell it to you--or your money back ;-p ***NOW COMPLETE***
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Folie à Trois

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

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**Note: **

This was written for the **Kink in the Bones** community on Livejournal (link in my profile)--a haven for lovers of smut that is just a *tad* beyond the vanilla...like threesomes ;-p. So if you're over 18 and curious, then don't be shy and apply for a membership to browse our (now well-stocked) aisles of smoking hot kinky smutty fics (nothing *too* depraved if you're worried about that).

There were several songs I played a lot while writing this, to evoke the atmosphere of sweltering, sweaty, sticky summer heat, and a steamy sexual tension. So, the following songs form an unofficial soundtrack to this story: Fever (Elvis), Black Velvet (Alannah Myles), Hungry Eyes (Eric Carmen) Sex on Fire (Kings of Leon), I'm on Fire (Bruce Springsteen), Ooh La La (Goldfrapp), Promiscuous & Say It Right (Nelly Furtado).

I feel very brave (crazy) for posting this without having a beta look at it, because it's a little on the wild side and has girl/girl stuff that is new for me, but SSJL, for whom I wrote this as a bday gift, assured me she loved it—good enough for me. As per her request, I tried to cram as much "nekkid booth and hot girl/girl action" into this story as I could. Enjoy!

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Is there anything worse than being stuck in the middle of Alabama for the night after a sweltering day in mid-August?

I wish I didn't know the answer to that.

Because what's worse than that, is being stuck in the middle of Alabama for the night, along with Booth and Doctor Brennan, after a sweltering day in mid-August, when the only place to crash for the night anywhere near there, is a bed & breakfast in a Queen Anne-style farmstead, that doesn't have AC.

No AC. In Alabama. In August. Who ever heard of such a thing?

Me.

Because it's been my living hell for the last few hours. Hotter than hell actually.

You'd think that when it's past midnight, it would cool down a bit. But I'd be surprised if it was even down to eighty degrees by now.

Which is not nearly cool enough to recover from a long day of suffering a temperature of a hundred degrees and a humidity of oh about a thousand percent.

If the weather was excruciating, watching _them_ all day – in that weather – was the worst kind of torture. It gave new depth to the expression 'hot and bothered'.

There had been no way to escape the way their eyes tangled, their ridiculously well-formed bodies constantly too close, the expanse of skin showing today, or the sexual tension coming off them in waves – especially when he took his sweet time rubbing 50 SPF sun block on her pale neck and shoulders.

---

The case was bad.

Hikers had found several bodies in an advanced state of decomp in a clearing, in a forested area of Little River Canyon National Reserve.

We all abandoned the usual dress code, and stripped down to tank tops, and Booth to his wifebeater, while we worked on recovery. It was simply _too hot_ for propriety.

The stench was thick and horrid and almost unbearable. More than once we each had to step away for a few moments to catch a few breaths of fresh air. We all respected each other enough not to have to pretend that we were tougher than we were. It was just that bad.

When the putrid scent threatened to overwhelm me, I distracted myself by observing them from a small distance, as I tried to suffuse my lungs with untainted air.

I've always found that very few things were as effective to put death from your mind as appreciating life in its most vibrant, healthy, aesthetically pleasing form.

Booth's physical appeal was no surprise to me, and even though I was well and truly over him, it never let up. Especially when all that muscular flesh was highlighted by a thin sheen of glistening sweat on tanned skin. With the heat seemingly shimmering off of him, the way his body moved languidly – like a cougar – was pure sin.

I'd honestly never paid that much attention to Brennan's physique, other than noting a slender but feminine figure, a pretty face and the most intense, rich blue eyes.

But watching her work today in nothing but tight jeans and a tank, I couldn't help but admire it. She had more curves than I did but she wore them well. Oh so well. She was actually tinier than she often seemed in a lab coat, with her delicate shoulders, narrow waist and slender back. But every time she moved, it was clear that no one should underestimate her; every inch of her was toned, muscles sinewing beneath her smooth, pale flesh. All those hours of practicing martial arts really paid off.

And every time she bent over the remains, my eyes drew inexorably to the neckline of her tank top where the fabric gave to those envy-inspiring slopes. I was beginning to understand Seeley's plight. I couldn't remember ever being so aware of a woman's breasts before.

---

From my childhood summers, I remembered the oppressive heat in the city, radiating from the bricks of the apartment buildings.

I remembered seeking coolness in the pitiful breeze on rooftops looking out over the Bronx towards Manhattan, sticky blacktop in the streets, Motown music everywhere making the very air dance. Jumping around in cool water from hoses, fountains or an occasional friendly fire hydrant. And, when I was a little older, wearing skimpy tops and almost nonexistent hotpants, groping slick, heated skin in airless stairwells with boys who wore jeans and sneakers and nothing else. Good times.

But there was nothing good about how hot and restless I had been all evening. The air in the room was stifling and opening a window did nothing to dissipate it, except let in more humid and oppressive air. Sleep stayed tantalizingly out of reach as I tossed and twisted in the damp, constricting sheets. Kicking the thin sheet covering me to the foot of the bed helped a little, but not enough.

Since we arrived, I'd already showered twice, without the benefit of hot water, but that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The second shower didn't offer lasting relief any more than the first one before dinner: ten minutes back in the room and I was already roasting again.

This place was an oven, under the rafters that supported the gabled slate roof. The second floor was a veritable heat trap. And just after midnight, after 2 hours of fitful tossing and frustration, I finally decided I'd had enough.

I gave up on sleep and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I hoped to find cooler air downstairs, and maybe a cold drink. I wiped the dampness from my forehead as I descended the stairs.

When I turned the corner into the kitchen, I froze.

Booth and Brennan were already there.

--

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**Is it hot in here? ;-p**


	2. Missing Scene from chapter 1

**Title:** Folie à Trois Missing Scene #1: Nothing Can Protect You From This

**Characters:** Booth, Brennan

**Summary:** Her skin was fair, and the sun relentless, and if he was offering… well, a girl could never be too safe. Companion piece to Folie à Trois, chapter 1.

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It was a sweltering day in August, even by Alabama standards. Hot and humid – a hundred degrees and a humidity of… oh about a thousand percent, or so it seemed to him. He wisely refrained from saying that out loud, or his partner would mercilessly and patronizingly correct that there was no such thing as more than a hundred percent.

All three of them – Cam included – abandoned the usual dress code; they stripped down to tank tops, and Booth to his wifebeater, while they worked on recovery. It was simply _too hot_ for propriety.

If the weather was excruciating, watching _her _all day – in that weather – was the worst kind of torture for him. It gave new depth to the expression 'hot and bothered'.

He had a hard time thinking of disgusting dead bodies, murder most foul, and grieving loved ones, watching her work all day in nothing but tight jeans that had to be uncomfortable in the heat, and a tank top that seemed to have both been painted onto her curves. Her appearance was deceptively slender and fragile, but every inch of her was toned, muscles sinewy beneath her smooth, pale flesh.

And every time she bent over the remains, his eyes drew inexorably to the neckline of her tank top where the fabric gave to those round, distracting, perfect mounds of… Shit. He needed to drag his eyes away. Before he started working with Bones, he couldn't remember ever being so aware of a woman's breasts before.

---

Not that Brennan was oblivious to _his_ constant attempts to distract her from her work. By… Well, by his being there and breathing, really. Especially when the wealth of muscular flesh on display was highlighted by a thin sheen of glistening sweat on tanned skin. With the heat seemingly shimmering off of him, the way his body moved languidly – like a cougar – was pure sin.

It had been a constant distraction, the way he circled her, the expanse of skin showing today. And the way he took his sweet time rubbing 50 SPF sun block on her pale neck and shoulders.

Usually she would wear long sleeves and sunhats to protect her fair skin – perhaps not very elegant, and certainly not very comfortable in the heat, but it did the job very effectively. In this heat however, that would have been nothing short of masochistic.

If only Booth would stop hovering around her while she worked. She couldn't get ten minutes of uninterrupted work in before he was breathing down her neck again (_making her shiver in the heat_), asking if she was feeling okay, not too hot, was she thirsty, didn't she need more sun block to protect her soft skin from getting sunburned? Not only was she ready to kill him, it made her wonder just how much attention he paid to her "soft skin."

She'd lost count of the number of times she'd reminded him today that she could take care of herself, and of _course_ she had put on sun screen…

But her skin was fair, and the sun relentless, and watching him as he rubbed the 50+ SPF onto his own bare forearms with firm, sure strokes, missing not an inch of skin...she felt her irritation melt away. And... if he was offering... well, a girl could never be too safe.

---

He didn't think he could take much more when his partner whipped out her water bottle for the umpteenth time that day, wrapped her lips around the rim, tilted her head back and greedily sucked down water, her cheeks hollowing and her sweaty throat working the liquid down. He tried to draw his eyes away because he really wasn't supposed to stare like this, let alone conjure up these _obscene_ images in his mind; it was wrong, and objectifying, and it was stupid – what if she caught him?

His eyes, already a little glassy, widened when things got progressively worse. Pouring some on her cupped hand a few times, she splashed water all over her flushed face, the back of her neck, throat, and – may the saints help him – her chest, dripping down her tank top. God. He needed something to do to distract him, or she was going to kill him.

Digging up the bottle of 50+ SPF sun block from his pack, he started rubbing some on his forearms, which _they_ didn't need – only his sanity. He wondered how long he'd stood there rubbing it in when he noticed her looking at him intently… for a while now, it seemed.

When he looked up and met her eyes, she didn't back down, or seem embarrassed about being caught staring. A lop-sided grin tugged at one corner of her mouth. "I wouldn't mind having some of what you got." He would have thought there was a flirtatious glint in her eyes, and some of it dripping into her voice, if he didn't think the heat was playing tricks on his mind.

But the heat also seemed to affect the filter of propriety between his brain and his mouth, because before he knew it, the next thing out of his mouth was, "Well, then, let me _give it to you_."

She cocked her head and sized him up while he bridged the few feet of distance between them, undoubtedly wondering if Seeley Booth, the man she was so sure was uncomfortable talking about sex, had just tossed a shameless innuendo her way.

"Where do you want it, Bones?" His grin was unabashedly spicy. "Glad you changed your mind about wanting a little rubdown from Seeley Booth."

She crossed her arms under her breasts and arched a lethal eyebrow at him. Uh oh. Maybe he was overplaying his hand here. Then the eyebrow relaxed back into the horizontal position, and she schooled her features into the picture of logic again. He tried not to let his eyes stray any lower than that.

"The size of your hands would make efficient work of my need for protection," she stated primly.

He grinned at what sounded suspiciously like the Brennan rationalization-of-the-week. "It's okay to admit you want my hands all over you, Bones." He was pushing it with the flirting, he knew. They weren't usually this blatant about it. But he just couldn't seem to help himself anymore. Not when it was so obviously working on her. "You want me," he smirked, insufferably cocky and knowing it.

She scowled at him, her eyes fire and her jaw tight. Bulls-eye. She only got _angry_ when he hit his mark. And he was former sniper Seeley Joseph Booth – he _always_ hit his mark when he wanted to.

Her mouth quirked dangerously and she stepped into his space, a little too close for comfort. "You're right, I want you..." she husked, visibly enjoying his transformation from cocky to concerned.

Just before he opened his mouth to tell her that this had gone on too far and he really didn't mean… her eyes narrowed at him.

"To shut up and rub some sun block on me," with a voice that had suddenly increased in volume and sharpness.

Shooting him a final glare she turned her back to him. "YOU insisted on that, remember?"

---

Was it wrong that this kind of snarky bickering kind of turned her on?

She knew that she'd pushed it with the flirtatious way she'd asked him to rub some lotion on her, but dammit the heat was getting to her, too. At worst, he would be a little uncomfortable, and that would be entertaining enough on its own.

She hadn't really expected him to respond to her flirting in kind, so when he told her he would _give it to her_ – oh god, _if only_ – and then swaggered her way, she couldn't help but wonder how seriously he was taking this. Because even to her literal brain, that seemed like a shameless innuendo.

By the time he pouted his lips around the taunting "You want me," her writer brain had conjured up the wording: _Kathy's hands fisted in Andy's shirt and threw him against the side of the truck. The crime scene was abandoned now, the remains already on the way to the Smithsonian. He'd teased her to the point of distraction while she worked, and she'd had enough. "I want you right now." An impatient, bruising kiss, to which he responded in kind. "I don't want to wait." Off with his shirt. "When we get back, I have to examine the bones." Andy wrenched open the rear door they were standing next to. More kissing as he laid Kathy down on the backseat with the care of a partner and the passion of a lover. He unbuttoned and peeled open her shirt to worship her breasts. "Oh, Andy…"_ _"Oh, Booth…"_

Angered by her own treacherous, lecherous mind, and clamping down on the burgeoning arousal, she had snarked at him and turned around as quickly as possible, lest her eyes betray her.

There was a moment of anticipation where her senses seem to strain in every direction. She heard the squirt of the lotion, the slippery sounds of it rubbing between his hands. She felt the sun beating down even more exquisitely on her shoulders. She smelled coconut oil and it made her think of the beach, and barely clothed bodies, and all things sexy. And then his huge hands encompassed her shoulders and suddenly it was very hard to think of much anything at all.

If she thought he would make this easier on both of them by making it quick and practical, she was sorely mistaken.

His hands spread across the crest of her shoulders and lathered the lotion thoroughly, in slow strokes that would feel like caresses under any other circumstances. While he was at it, his hands worked on loosening the knots in her deltoids – an occupational hazard after spending too much time hunched over the remains – and it was all she could do not to moan her appreciation for it.

She lifted the sticky strands of her messy ponytail away from her neck so he could cover that area too.

Somehow she'd ended up almost pressed back against his chest, feeling the heat emanate from his body, and he was breathing in her ear, creating distracting sensations, as he told her huskily, "Only one kind of pink flush is acceptable for you, Bones."

She couldn't help it – she shuddered. A flush crept up her neck and heated her cheeks. What the fuck was he doing? He couldn't mean… Not sure if she wanted to know, she asked anyway, "What's that?"

He snickered softly. "Blushing, of course."

She could just _picture_ his mock innocent face, _hear_ the smirk in his voice. _And it made her crazy._

Apparently one to be thorough and not miss a single spot, Booth lifted her tank top in back and slipped his hands underneath. His curled fingers tickled along her damp back, passing her bra strap, until they splayed against her shoulders again underneath the fabric.

"Because you don't want to get burned at those edges," he whispered into her ear as he put the finishing touches to his work – and to her.

---

He snickered softly. "Blushing, of course."

He was taking his sweet time rubbing the lotion on her shoulders, and enjoying it. Not a peep out of her, in fact, she appeared to be enjoying his touch. A lot. She seemed to be stifling a sound of satisfaction once or twice, and when he looked over her shoulder, he watched in fascination as her nipples hardened underneath her shirt. But he half-expected her to slap him, or at least protest, when he thrust his hands under the back of her tank top.

At that, her spine straightened with a snap and a gasp left her lips. He leaned in to whisper next to her ear, "Because you don't want to get burned at those edges." He worked the last bit of lotion into the crest of her shoulders and her shoulder blades underneath the fabric.

They should stop, really. They were in public. And this was bordering on the obscene. He had his hands under her shirt and he was this close to feeling her up.

With one final brush over her shoulders, he regretfully deemed his work done. "There, that should be enough. Let's not overdo it with the lotion. Wouldn't want you dripping all over the remains." He allowed a flirtatious tone to seep into his voice again, even though he knew he was walking a fine line, especially when saying things that could easily be interpreted as dirty double entendres. On the other hand, how big of a risk could that be with his ever-literal Bones?

Maybe bigger than he thought, because the next words out of her mouth nearly knocked him on his ass. And though he couldn't see her face, he thought he heard a hint of suggestion in her voice when she muttered back, "Maybe you like me slippery."

He couldn't think of a witty comeback to that to save his life. All he knew was that it was really way past time to stop. His fingertips traced a path down the skin of her back as they slipped out of her shirt again.

When he looked up he immediately gleaned that EVERYONE on the team had stopped what they were doing to stare at them, and he cringed. Cam, the sheriff, the techs, and every other law enforcement officer present all jumped, and pretended to be busy working, but not in time for it to go unnoticed. Great. He'd subjected his partner to a gawk fest without intending to, and even though she seemed oblivious, he felt bad.

"Thanks, Booth," she offered hesitantly. She didn't quite meet his eyes, before she sauntered back to the remains to continue her work.

"Anytime, Bones…." he muttered into nothingness.

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**Note: I am indebted to SSJL for the suggestion to write this, for cracking the whip to _make_ me write this ;-p; for soothing the resulting sting *rubs sore ass* by offering encouragements, a couple of choice lines in this thing to keep me going when I got stuck, and buckets of drool. Also to NicoleMack for looking it over and helping me spiff it up.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Folie à Trois, Chapter 2

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

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I didn't expect anyone else up at this hour.

I immediately wondered what I had walked into – or rather: what might have been about to happen before I interrupted – as I laid eyes on them. The lights weren't on, but even in the sparse moonlight some things were clearly visible.

As always they were standing way too close together – even in this heat, ludicrously.

Brennan leaned back and held the counter; her arms at her sides and resting behind her, shoulders pushed back. Her upper body was open and inviting to him, even while she challenged him with her chin and eyes.

Booth looked like the picture of sexual aggression. His hips were thrust forward towards hers, one hand resting on the counter beside hers – trapping her – and his feet were planted firmly astride one of her shins. A bottle of beer dangled from the hand that he was raising up, his index finger rudely pointed close to her face.

While he provocatively crowded her space in the muggy midnight, pheromones hung as heavily in the air as the sultry smell of honeysuckle.

Of course, these moments between them happened so often as to be practically meaningless. Or rather: meaningless as a means of divination for the status of their relationship. Because of _course_ their body language was perpetually pregnant with meaning – just none they were willing to acknowledge, even to themselves, it seemed.

---

I had not been aware of even a whisper as I approached, but my distraction and the soft whir of the useless fan in the kitchen probably contributed to that. In any case, it would appear that the heat hadn't depleted what had to be a sheer endless reserve of their ubiquitous bickering.

They looked up when they registered my entrance in the corner of their eyes, and both their expressions carried a brief glimmer of guilt; of being _caught_. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

We were all here as guests and therefore we all had every right to be there, even at this hour. And there were no overt signs that anything inappropriate was carried on here. So how come I still felt a little bit like my father busting in on me with one of my boyfriends?

I drew up a questioning eyebrow, and Booth took a step back from his partner, but looked at me defiantly. _None of your business, Camille._

Brennan was the first to fold. "We…couldn't sleep, because of the…heat," she stuttered. In an oddly cute way. She kept sneaking uncertain glances at Booth.

My eyes were shifting between the two of them, to read their body language and get a feel for the atmosphere. Was it as charged as it seemed, or was that just my imagination?

Perhaps the notable lack of decent attire also played a part in the sensuality of the moment, in this dusky kitchen.

I knew Seeley's body like the back of my hand, but unless they knew something I didn't, Brennan had never seen so much of his skin at once. His large feet were bare, and almost the entire length of his long, athletic legs was showing under his short, loose-fitting running shorts, and a torso-hugging wifebeater. He had crossed his arms in front of him, making every muscle stand out.

Dragging my eyes away from his delicious and distracting form, I couldn't resist the opportunity to give Brennan the once-over. The lines of her body were sharply outlined against the moonlight coming from the screen door at the far end of the kitchen.

I admired her long legs, at a slight angle from where her bottom rested against the kitchen cabinet; her slender waist and the generous – _wow_, how did I not know they were so generous before? And so shapely too? – curves of her chest. Her sleep shorts and her painted-on, low-cut tank top left little to the imagination. She, too, was barefoot.

I couldn't blame them, really. The heavy, humid night air demanded as little fabric uncomfortably warming and constricting the skin as possible. I had merely covered myself with just enough fabric to keep from sticking to myself, which was the only thing worse, as I slept. Or fruitlessly tried to anyway. And it wasn't much more than they were wearing.

Only the moonlight provided soft illumination and offered scant cool relief on their heated, moist skin; neither partner had bothered to turn on the light. Perhaps they were afraid if they did, they'd be too self-conscious of how dressed down they were – or too appreciative. Or both.

---

Brennan held up the beer bottle that had been obscured by her body. "You want a cold beer too?"

After I nodded and smiled appreciatively she pushed off from the counter, and my eyes were glued to her languorous, hip-swaying saunter to the refrigerator.

Drawn in by the sight of Brennan opening the refrigerator door and helpless not to notice her nipples drawing tight as the wave of cool air hit her, I approached her without conscious thought. She eyed me curiously as I stood unusually close, but didn't back down. Of course she wouldn't.

She unabashedly held my eyes hostage while she further minimized the space between our bodies, by stepping aside to allow the refrigerator door to fall shut again behind her, until we were so close that I could feel her body heat radiating towards me.

When she held up a beer for me I reached out to take it, but when my fingers curled around the – oh blessed relief – ice cold glass of the bottle neck, she didn't immediately release it.

For a few breaths, we were both holding the beer bottle, our eyes still attached to each other. She gave me a small smile, but I wasn't sure if it was sincere or irreverent.

"Enjoy," she wished me in a low, throaty voice.

"Thanks. I'm sure I will." The tip of my tongue raced between my dry lips to moisten them.

Her eyes fluttered down, breaking the spell. She let her fingers slide from the bottle, and goose bumps erupted on my skin, in the wake of the stream of air that trailed behind her as she slipped past me.

I quickly twisted the cap to open the bottle, lusting after its contents. My mother wouldn't approve, but that's just the way it goes, so in the end I didn't hesitate to put the bottle straight to my mouth and wrap my lips around the rim. I sucked in a good long drink of cool liquid, my throat working to greedily gulp down as much of the cool drink as possible before oxygen ran out.

It tasted really good. Probably better than it should. I savored the refreshingly bitter tang of it, which reminded me of the way cut grass smells after a refreshing spring shower.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back in pure, unadulterated enjoyment of the refreshing treat. A gratified sigh accompanied the release of the bottle from my mouth.

When I slowly opened my eyes again, both partners were staring at me curiously from opposite counters, a mixture of shock and amusement on their faces.

Oh.

Perhaps the gratified sigh had sounded just a tad too…sexual.

Booth, leaning against the counter opposite Brennan, looked at me from under hooded eyelids – and I knew that look. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" he deadpanned.

Brennan turned to him swiftly, surprised to find her partner for once comfortable with sexual innuendo in her presence.

"Best I've had in a while," I quipped good-naturedly.

I rubbed the sweating beer bottle all over my overheated forehead, neck, throat and chest. It offered delicious relief, but my heated skin warmed the bottle, and my skin quickly warmed to the air again.

"Damn this heat. I'm gonna need more than a cold beer to cool off," I muttered.

Inspiration struck – providence granted my wish. I opened the freezer above the refrigerator, rummaging around until I found what I was looking for: a full tray of ice cubes.

The flood of crisp, icy air on my face was delicious, and I was in no hurry to shut the door again. I, too, felt my nipples tightening against the fabric of my tank top as the downward stream of cold air washed across my chest.

---

I popped a frosty cube and let it follow the same trail as the bottle, with _much _better results: finally a more lasting coolness on my skin.

My face, neck, the uncovered part of my chest and arms all got the cold and wet treatment, until the ice cube had all but melted. Sighs and the occasional hissed 'yessss' expressed my gratification. I could care less about whether my colleagues were gawking, or their possibly orgasmic connotations – only one thing mattered to me right now.

"Aren't you gonna share the wealth?" Booth scolded, but the tiniest movement of his upper lip betrayed that he was baiting me.

I cocked my head at him, all caution melting away in the heat and washed off by that blissful ice cube. "Be happy to, Seeley. All you had to do was ask."

I was in front of him in a heartbeat, and touched the ice cube to his lips, effectively silencing him. He moaned a little and not from discomfort. I took that as encouragement to let his entire face and neck benefit as well, but with a slow and sensual touch – because my ego couldn't resist the opportunity to test if I could still affect him physically.

I had no intention of following through on my flirtation, but he clearly wasn't sure of that. The tension rose. It was amusing to see him fidget and flounder, before he finally sucked in a big gulp of air and folded.

"Cam…" he warned.

I smiled sweetly. "Relax, Seeley, I'm not going to jump you. Especially not in the company of the lovely Doctor Brennan. I hope your ego can stomach the fact that we _can _in fact control ourselves around you. Shocking, I know," I mocked, with raised eyebrows. "Even though you do look good enough to eat, wearing that, and Doctor Brennan has _got _to be just as hot and bothered as I am." I played it cool.

The object of my observation piped up then, dryly stating, "Actually, I am admittedly experiencing increased psychosexual stimulation from witnessing that."

That was her way of saying she thought it was hot? Wow.

God help me, the heat was stirring the devil in me. And her shameless honesty wasn't helping. I itched to rattle her just a little bit. Give pause to the unflappable, seemingly impossible to shock Doctor Brennan.

"Are you saying you'd like to participate in Seeley's cooling, or would you like me to administer the same treatment on _you_? Or do you just like to watch?"

She swallowed, open-mouthed. "All three of those options appeal to me, actually." Elegantly, she touched the tip of her tongue to a pearl of sweat at the corner of her mouth. Then she blinked twice in rapid succession. "Is it hot in here?"

I laughed silently, and shook my head. She clearly wasn't put off.

But the opportunity to have some fun with the good doctor, to mess with her a little bit, was just too precious.

---

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**Is it hotter in here? ;-)**


	4. Missing Scene from chapter 2

**Title:** Folie à Trois Missing Scene #2: In The Heat of the Night

**Characters:** Booth, Brennan

**Summary:** He was itching for a heated discussion, a knock-down bickering match. So was she. It was the only way they knew how to deal with the tension that ran a fever pitch today. Companion piece to Folie à Trois, chapter 2.

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He would have had the decency to announce his entrance properly to his partner if he'd known she'd be in the kitchen too.

His bare feet had apparently led him so quietly down the stairs that she jumped a little when he announced his presence with a surprised cough, and he felt a twinge of guilt for startling her.

She recovered just as quickly however, and wordlessly tipped the beer bottle in her hand at him, then lifted it to her lips and drank greedily.

The cool white light of the moon through the tall kitchen windows belied the sweet-smelling, stuffy heat in the kitchen. It made her skin, off-set in white against dark shadows, seem even more pale than usual, and _holy mother_ why could he see so much of it??

His throat was getting dry from staring at her with yet another bottle to her mouth, and wearing even less clothes than earlier in the day. And suddenly he really needed that cold drink he had come for right fucking now. He walked to the refrigerator to help himself to a beer, following her example.

He felt a little ill at ease running into her here after midnight, wearing that pathetic excuse for sleepwear. He needed a moment to center himself before he felt ready to deal with that. He folded his arms across his chest, emphasizing his broad torso and the muscular definition in his arms and shoulders, his stance wide in the middle of the dark kitchen.

"Aren't you getting a little chilly there, Bones? Maybe put some clothes on before coming out in public?" he inquired coolly. Which was a fucking miracle in this muggy heat, and made his remark all the more laughable.

He was half-trying to sound like he didn't care, and succeeding mostly in sounding like a jerk.

Catching his cool tone, she cocked her head and lodged herself in her favorite position: the opposite of his. "The kitchen at midnight isn't exactly public, Booth."

He set his jaw. Even in the middle of the night, the first thing she did was provoke him? As if she hadn't done that all day?

"Well, that recovery site this afternoon was," he shot back in an aloof tone, if a little sullenly. He took a quick swig of beer, vainly hoping it might cool his temper.

He should have known that remark only served to bait her. In fact, maybe he did.

Even in the half-dark, he could see the dangerous glint of engagement in her eyes before she tilted her head at him. "Are you implying there was something wrong with my costume, Booth?"

He nearly shot beer out of his nose. She was calling that painted-on, barely-there, _ridiculous_ excuse for work clothes she'd been wearing today a _costume_? Had he taught her _nothing_ about plain English the past few years?

He idly scratched his short fingernails over the damp skin on his biceps. Something itched beneath his skin, begging to get out, when she got like this. But after all the times he'd felt like this, he still refused to recognize it for what it was. Instead, he channeled his frustration into a snarky attack.

"There was nothing wrong with your outfit, Bones....if you were going to a bar to pick up a guy."

Oh, he had her now. She sucked in a breath through her nose; he could hear the harsh sound all the way from where he was standing, several feet away. He saw a tautness seep into her posture as she steeled herself for full-on battle.

"Isn't that a double standard, Booth? YOU were wearing jeans and a tank top, too. So why can't I? It was hot."

He actually snorted at the pun, which she wouldn't get. "Yeah, it suuuure was." He couldn't wipe the smirk off his face.

The emphasis gave away that he meant something by it, but it was still too hot to think, and late, and they were both tired, so all she gave him was an annoyed sigh and the strained question, "What are you implying _now_?" Their voices at were rising to an angry whisper, but they were both trying to keep the volume down so as not to wake anybody else even though their argument was escalating.

She couldn't possibly be this dense. "You can't tell me you didn't notice all the guys were watching, Bones."

She got that holier-than-thou look on her face that pissed him off faster than anything else. "They were _not_, Booth. They were dedicated professionals. We were working. Our appearance was the _last _thing on our minds."

And to him it sounded suspiciously like she was using the "they" as a thinly veiled substitute for _me._

She was being recalcitrant, and he was being snippy and sarcastic, and more than once now he'd deliberated insulted her. On any other night he would recognize the dynamic at work and be smart enough to put a stop to it. He was itching for a heated discussion, a knock-down bickering match. So was she. It was the only way they knew how to deal with the tension between them anymore lately, especially when it that ran a fever pitch like today, even now.

"This doesn't concern you, Booth. So just drop it!" she whispered spat angrily.

He padded over to where she was standing by the counter, inching closer and closer, but she wouldn't back down from him. Another step and they were toe to toe.

He leaned in menacingly, and disconcertingly close. "It concerns me if guys drool all over you and distract you from your work, because I have a _murder_ to solve!"

Aaaaaand…that REALLY hit a nerve.

Her eyes tried to emasculate him before her voice did. He almost covered his vulnerable parts with his hands in a reflex.

"Oh, YOU have a murder to solve? What am I, _chopped liver_?"

He would have laughed at her finally using a slang expression correctly for once, but in this mood he was likely looking at a good slugging if he did. Her eyes were blazing fire and he was reminded of that encounter at the shooting range when they first started working together. He thought he'd never seen anything as captivating and arousing as a pissed off Temperance Brennan.

"I thought we were partners! You rat bastard!" she ground out, vibrating with fury and righteous indignation.

Something was scratching for attention in the back of his mind, something about the hurt behind her anger, but he ignored it, lost in the heat of the moment, the heat of their tension.

They were standing way too close together, of course, especially in this heat. He could feel the heat of her body and her anger radiating against him, until finally she stepped back and leaned back against the counter.

"I am _not _distracted. I don't allow my sexual interests to affect my work."

That did it. With the holier-than-thou attitude again, and what sounded suspiciously like an accusation in that moment. He took a step closer so they were almost hip to hip, one hand planted on the counter beside hers – trapping her – and his feet planted firmly astride one of her shins. He felt a small twitch of arousal that he attributed to the adrenaline rush of butting heads with her so fiercely. He leaned in so his face was close enough to see her pupils dilate., and was gratified to see an infinitesimal shiver run up her arms and shoulders, goose bumps rising in its wake.

He liked the thrill of having her cornered, and _fuckit_ the close proximity too. He could see the fine dew of perspiration covering her face, smell her sweet breath laced with a hint of alcohol against his upper lip. And when he ventured a glance down at her rapidly expanding chest, he gloated over the clear outlines of her nipples against her tank top—and it was definitely _not_ because of the cold.

"Well, aren't YOU just better than the rest of us, Bones."

True to form, she didn't allow his posturing to intimidate her. She simply held her ground, let him take his best shot. She leaned back and held the counter; her arms at her sides and resting behind her, shoulders pushed back. _Come on, bad boy, let's see what you got. I'm not afraid of you. _ She exposed herself to him, made herself vulnerable, even while she challenged him with her chin and eyes.

Their eyes dueled now, replacing the verbal battle for now. You look down, you lose. A perverted game of freeze-tag. But on the inside, he was anything _but_ freezing.

For just a fraction of a second, his gaze flicked down to the way her lip was drawn up belligerently. Or mockingly. Or both.

She smirked. "Do you mean that _you_ let your sexual interests affect your work, Booth?"

_Fuck._

He knew he had hedged just a fraction of a second too long to maintain plausible deniability.

The bottle of beer dangled from the hand that he was raising up, his index finger rudely pointed close to her face, but he didn't care right now. He was just trying to salvage some of his argument—and some of his dignity. "_Don't-_"

But before he could finish whatever pitiful attempt he was still trying to formulate in his mind, a movement that caught his attention from the corner of his eye saved him.

Cam.

Well, didn't that make the fucking party complete.

* * *

**Note: Thanks once again to SSJL for instigating this companion piece (and supplying a couple of lines here and there to tickle my muse), because phew *wipes brow* I EFFING LOVE IT when they get like this. :-)  
**


	5. Chapter 3

**Title:** Folie à Trois

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

I turned fully and pinned her with my eyes. It worked like a charm; she straightened on the spot. She backed into the sink and curled her elegant fingers around it.

I picked up another ice cube and advanced until I crowded her space just as much as Booth had been doing when I walked in – with equal results.

She tilted her chin and looked at me defiantly, daring me; challenging me. Didn't she know by now that she'd met her match in me? Play with fire and you might get burned.

She didn't look away even as I leaned in close and lightly touched the ice cube to her lips, but I only let her have a teasing taste. My hand guided the ice cube across her forehead, temples, heated cheeks, and her jaw. Slowly. I watched her lips part and her eyes slip shut. How she seemed to strain towards my relieving touch.

While my fingers were spreading the sweat dewing on her skin across her delicate collarbones, my other hand let the cube travel down the long, smooth column of her throat. A trickle of ice water raced down her neck, mingling with perspiration along the way, and disappeared into the low neckline of her tank top. I chased it with my eyes and realized I was only atoms away from chasing it between those glorious breasts with my lips and tongue.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to refocus on my task. That wasn't made any easier by the fact that when I slowly blew out that breath, against her neck, she tossed her head back and uttered a hum of pleasure low in her throat, shivering.

"Hmm, that feels good. Don't stop."

My sex throbbed in response to her throaty whisper. I had always suspected that for all her clinical detachment and matter-of-factness, she harbored a sensual power within. But to witness that sensuality unfold like flower petals, up close, was a raw, heady and exciting thing. Much more than I had anticipated. Maybe I was the one playing with fire here, not the other way around.

I could feel Seeley's eyes burning a hole into my back. I could hear his ragged breathing. Oh yes, he was turned on by this.

I wasn't quite prepared for how it affected me either – or Brennan. This was supposed to be just a little mischief, to rattle her and – frankly – especially Seeley. But now I was confronted with the reality of looking at Brennan's dilated pupils, the flush on her cheeks that was not just from the heat, her soft eyes, and I imagined I was sporting a similar look at the moment.

And I couldn't walk away. Not yet anyway.

Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

---

"Do you want this, Doctor Brennan?" I taunted, holding up the ice cube.

Her lips parted again and she nodded slowly as she stared at the ice cube, mesmerized. Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip.

"Then come and get it," I smirked.

With that, I bit down on the ice cube to hold it between my teeth, and tilted it up in silent but unmistakable invitation.

Brennan was game. For as long as I live, I will never forget the self-satisfied, cat-that-ate-the-canary grin she sported as she pushed off the counter once more. She held it as she closed the space between us, tilting her head, drawing ever nearer, with agonizing slowness, until she could close her lips around the coveted frozen goody I held.

She took her time feasting on it, and luxuriously worked her tongue and lips around it, leaving no doubt that she was aware of what that ice cube was a thinly veiled excuse for. Those pretty lips were actually barely brushing my fuller ones, but were nonetheless setting me on fire, making me shiver in the warm air.

"That's enough, Cam."

Booth's voice was rough and tight as he barked his command at me.

_Oh? Getting territorial? _

Brennan pulled back, her teeth stealing the ice cube while I was distracted, and looked over my shoulder at Booth for a moment.

Booth had addressed me, but clearly, his attempt to stop this was in fact aimed at his partner. We must have really hit a nerve, or we would never have managed to provoke him like that.

I considered that from his position, he couldn't see that the ice cube had been a constant barrier between our mouths; for all he knew, we could have been tonguing with gusto. Too bad we weren't. I could see how that thought would upset him though, him being head over ass in love with her and all – if he was trying to hide it, he was doing a piss-poor job of it.

Brennan took the ice cube out from between her teeth to look at Booth and tease, "Maybe he just feels left out."

With a wicked grin, she sought my eyes again, and the glint of lust and mirth in her eyes took my breath away. What had I unleashed here?

---

When I half-turned to look over my shoulder at Booth, leaning against the opposite counter, strangling it, she pushed past me – close enough that her hardened nipples brushed mine in passing, and sent a jolt through me. My breasts had grown heavy and sensitive from desire in the brief moments I had spent touching her.

It was a novelty for me, seeing our constant friction and awareness of each other in a different light tonight. Because I had to honestly wonder if it was really any different from her bickering with Booth? And there was no doubt in anyone's mind what lay underneath it when it came to the two of them.

I turned fully to see impossibly long legs and bare feet padding over to Booth with that same enticing sway in her hips, making those perfectly shaped buttocks wiggle attractively in her form-fitting shorts.

Booth was starting to squirm and getting that tight, terrified look about him. If she was looking at him the way she had just been looking at me, I could imagine.

It was _that_ look, which confirmed my suspicions that their sexual tension was still unresolved, although I wasn't so sure anymore that wouldn't change before the night was over – an unexpectedly thrilling thought.

"How rude of us not share our refreshing treat with you," she husked.

Dear lord, that smoky timbre would have been enough to give any man a tight crotch, no matter what she said with it, but the hint of flirtation in her voice would certainly do him in.

Sure enough, over Brennan's shoulder I saw his jaw fall from its previously secure position and drop slightly. His eyes melted into hers. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, she had popped the ice cube in her mouth and pressed it against his.

---

I was over Seeley. I really was. The spark of jealousy I felt at seeing him so ardently kissing another woman was brief and lackluster. I felt a different kind of spark at the sight before me: large, talented hands wandering across her slender back.

They were standing here doing this in front of me as if I weren't even here. Not including me. When I was the one who started this. That was just rude. Unacceptable.

Too overheated to consider the wisdom of my actions, I marched over. At the sight of Seeley's gorgeous lips so passionately entangled with hers, however, the rebuke died in my mouth.

It was…intriguing, to see him like this. I knew what it felt like to be at the receiving end of his kisses, but I'd never seen him kiss a woman, not _like_ _that_ anyway, as a spectator. The sight of it rooted me to the spot.

Wow. They were really getting into this. The ice cube must have melted long moments ago, having a snowball's chance in hell in the heat of their attraction to one another, but they were still kissing. Hotly. I saw flashes of tongues dueling in their tangled mouths. She gripped his hands where they held the counter and pressed herself against him unabashedly, her heavy breasts flattening against his chest.

I dry-swallowed a few times and tried again, first clearing my throat. "Excuse me. Don't you think it's rude to be having this party in front of me?" I crossed my arms in an attempt to strengthen my challenge.

They sprang apart guiltily, panting and flushed. Adorable. Appetizing.

Brennan took a step towards me, until she was right in front of me, toe to toe, and it was all I could do not to flinch.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Booth blanching visibly when she asked seriously, "Are you saying you'd like to be included?"

She had that intense look on her face and a tiny frown between her eyebrows. Still, I had a hard time deciding if this was a bad joke or a serious question, until it hit me: this is Brennan.

She shared a look with Booth. Not seeking his permission as much as checking if he was on board with whatever she was planning in that big, genius, resourceful, sexy brain of hers. Booth said nothing. Of course he didn't. Anything she wanted. Anything at all.

Which, frankly – once those blue-eyed puppies focused all their intensity on me – I completely understood. Anything she wanted. Anything at all.

Kiss her? You got it.

* * *

**Note: Is it in hot in here? ;-)**


	6. Chapter 4

**Title:** Folie à Trois

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 4**

_--_

_Previously: "Kiss her? You got it. "_

_--_

All my misgivings about intimacy with a woman went right out the window during that kiss. Not slow and sensual, not soft and tender. Because that wasn't us. Our kiss was determined less by gender than by who we were. Brennan and I were both highly charged and passionate, and our kiss was no different. We pulled no punches with each other; whether we were crossing professional opinions or tongues.

It occurred to me that this could get terribly out of hand terribly fast when she didn't wait for my or Seeley's hands to start undressing her. She just unceremoniously yanked the tank top over her head – which graced us both with a delicious breeze – and flung it to the ground.

Her actions shouldn't surprise me. This was Doctor Brennan, Champion of Independence. Didn't need help from anyone, she could do everything by herself. Well, I'd show her just how helpful I could be.

Flipping her so she rested against the counter, I framed her breasts between my hands, admiring the artwork before sampling it.

Before my mouth descended on her I snuck a glance at Booth. A scowl. _Fine._ A smirk. A rueful smile. Between the two of us, I was going to be the first who got to touch her like this. That had to make him a little jealous. Good. That might provoke him into doing more than standing there like a dolt, eyes bugging out of his head, with his hand mindlessly rubbing the raging erection tenting his shorts. His Adam's apple bobbed heavily.

Whether or not Booth would participate, and how, was not my concern. I had a beautiful woman in front of who had bared her ridiculously perfect breasts for me, and her whimpering and straining was the closest thing to begging me to give them some attention.

I feasted on her skin, dropped kisses and licked along the pale slopes, tasting the saltiness of sweat and cooling her by blowing on the moisture left by my mouth. Inexperienced in this, I started with the stimulation I was sure would be appreciated by any woman, and planned to let her responses guide me from there.

A brief thought crossed my mind of the risk of being walked in on like this, which would have been highly compromising and embarrassing.

But I knew the old lady who ran the bed and breakfast wouldn't hear us: she had retired for the night, and presumably went out cold, after the four glasses of sherry she'd rather rapidly consumed during dinner. Moreover, she was as deaf as a post, which was something of a nuisance earlier, but would be a blessing in disguise tonight. Which was thankful, because Brennan and I both passed the point of no return a little while ago – we would ride this out as far as it would take us.

---

When I finally closed my mouth around the darker aureole, I heard two moans – hers, and his in sympathy.

I would have laughed if I didn't the very serious business to attend to of sucking the rock-hard nipple into my mouth to hear her moan like that again.

"Camille!" Seeley burst out after only a few moments of this. I ripped my lips from the nipple I'd been making love to and scowled at him.

I knew what he wanted, but – to my surprise – was enjoying it way too much myself to let him have it.

He scowled right back. He resented me for keeping to myself what he had desired for so long. Too bad. At least I went after what I wanted. But, rather than turning this into a nasty territorial battle, I reluctantly surrendered my position. I stepped aside so he could take over my place and my breast-laving duties.

Before he did so, he kissed her hungrily, reclaiming her as his. I almost snorted. Idiot. She would never be _his_, never anyone's but her own. Before I understood or respected anything else about her, I respected _that_.

I shook myself out of an envious daze as I realized that I had stood by idly for too long, since Seeley had replaced my mouth with his own on her breasts. I had just mentally scolded him for it and now I was doing the very same thing.

Brennan barely cared anymore who was affording her this pleasure as long as someone did. She was incredibly responsive to his touch, her head tossing in her neck as she gasped and moaned her enjoyment.

I stood behind his back, giving me two advantages. His broad shoulders obscured the sight of what his mouth was doing, and I had the luxury of indulging myself in touching every inch of that sculpted wall of muscle, bone, flesh and skin.

I pushed his wifebeater up over it, briefly catching on his chin and mouth. A soft, wet pop and a second later it went flying. Then I could spend some time showing my appreciation for all his hard work at the gym, with my fingers and lips. He, too, tasted salty, but more masculine. And equally delicious.

I indulged myself generously, before I jammed my hands into the waistband of his shorts, and curled my fingers into the firm flesh of his buttocks. Whenever I squeezed, he flexed his muscles in time with my wet, open-mouthed kiss across his shoulder blades.

But I wanted more, and I suspected he did too. And when he started thrusting his hips forward more and more I knew exactly what to do.

---

Standing on tip-toe, I whispered hotly in his ear, "Seeley."

It worked.

He stopped what he was doing and raised his head from her breasts, glistening with saliva, the nipples swollen and dark coral from the attention we'd given them.

I pulled him to the side so he was next to Brennan – who looked almost comical with her flushed face, messy hair, swollen lips and glassy eyes. Except she looked absolutely radiant and, god help my battered heterosexuality, fuckable.

High time to remind myself why I liked cocks. So I fixed a heated gaze on Seeley again and I cupped him boldly in my hand, roaming familiar territory, while I sucked on the pulse point in his neck. The one I knew would drive him crazy. I wanted a few of those raw, masculine groans out of him.

I could feel Brennan's curious gaze on us, observing my actions and cataloguing Booth's reactions. Learning. Reaping the benefits of my experience with him. Curious as ever. Ever the scientist.

He groaned deeply while I worked on his neck, stroked him through his shorts, and rhythmically pinched his nipple with my free hand. The loose curl of his hands on my waist belied the restless, erratic jerking of his hips against me, teasing me with the pressure of his rock-hard erection.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Getting a little too hot and bothered, Agent Booth?"

He snarled at that, and I remembered how cranky it used to make him to be reminded of the limits of his own control.

"I think I have just the medicine for that."

---

While I reached beside him to grab another ice cube he threw a muscular arm around Brennan's waist and yanked her in for a hungry kiss.

Somehow the bizarre circumstances of this night, the heat, and the raw hotness of our spontaneous _rendezvous_ conspired to make both of them lose their inhibitions and any self-consciousness about their lust for one another – which had been obvious to anyone but them so far.

I briefly wondered why they even tolerated me around anymore. They could just say something that amounted to 'Thank you for giving us a boost, Cam, we'll be off to one of our rooms to fuckF like bunnies now.'

But maybe the simple reality was that we not only clearly desired each other, but we all needed each other there, in various ways. To Brennan, I was a means of indirectly provoking Booth into action, and to a lesser extent of learning about his preferences. I didn't kid myself about Booth: while he surely found me attractive and appreciated my skills as a lover, to him, I was primarily a catalyst and an alibi of sorts, to pursue his real desire.

For me, getting physical with Brennan like this was a pleasurable way to resolve my complicated and conflicting reactions to her, and my intimate knowledge of Booth as lover served us both well. And of course, it also gave me one more chance to be with the man who had told me in no uncertain terms we couldn't be lovers anymore. We'd said that several times before, but often fell back into each other's beds at some point or another. But I would have to savor this night, because I had a growing feeling this time might really be the last after all.

I fought the desire to have his attention all to myself, while he didn't interrupt his wet, urgent kisses with the woman next to him for even a second, not even while I worked his shorts down his hips and dragged them over his sensitive erection. Merely a hiss in between luxurious tugs at the lips of the woman he'd desired for so long.

Kiss-swollen and stubble-burned as she was, she gave as good as she got. But then again, I had expected no less. And before the night was over, I was going to make damn sure I got another taste of that for myself.

---

But first, I wanted a taste of something else. I purposely startled him by closing my hand around the heated, engorged flesh of his cock.

Booth's cock – like its owner – was a sculpted thing of beauty, and I would take almost as much pleasure in the attention I was about to shower it with, as Booth would. He'd be like butter in my skilled hands – and mouth – just like always.

He sucked in his stomach when I closed my mouth around a pert, masculine nipple and sucked hard, warning of my intentions. The ever-chiseled muscles in his abdomen flexed and twitched under my lips and swirling tongue as I descended.

I gave him just enough time to step out of his shorts completely before he'd need both feet planted firmly on the ground to steady himself. His Adam's apple jumped convulsively as I stroked him again before I struck.

But it was not the moist heat of my mouth he felt on him first, as he had expected. He let out a guttural groan and his knees buckled at the feel of the ice cube I dragged along his length, and back on the other side. Goosebumps, giving tiny shadows against the moonlight, raced across his skin.

His knees couldn't quite find their strength again. Especially when I soothed the icy sting with a quick slide of my warm lips around him, all the way to the base. He took hold of the edge of the counter and gripped it like a lifeline, whimpering.

I held him in my mouth, slowly teasing circles with my tongue, until I could feel his skin grow warm again. Then I released him slowly, despite his murmured protest. What I saw in Brennan's face, when I peeked up, amused me to no end. Intrigue. Curiosity. Lust. Eagerness to learn what pleased him the most.

Not a trace of apprehension, or jealousy, which somehow did not surprise me: Brennan was a virtual stranger to censoring one's sexual fancies, and to irrational possessiveness. And on some visceral level she had to know that I might be playing with him for a while, but he was all hers. Same as he'd told me: 'I'm with Bones, Cam, all the way. Don't doubt it for a second.' I didn't.

But I had found a winning combination that kept his attention tethered to me for a moment longer, at least as long as I kept applying it.

Ice, heat, rinse, repeat.

---

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed a little Hot 'n Cold. ;-) **


	7. Chapter 5

**Title:** Folie à Trois

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 5**

_Previously: _

_But I had found a winning combination that kept his attention tethered to me for a moment longer, at least as long as I kept applying it._

_Ice, heat, rinse, repeat._

---

So far Brennan and Booth hadn't managed to stir up a lot of trouble between the two of them. They could both still back out and the worst they had done was a little making out.

Then Brennan tapped my shoulder, cavalier as if she were simply cutting in for a dance. Only this was a much more intimate dance, but her eyes betrayed both her eagerness to participate, and that she was fully aware of the implications.

As she lowered herself next to me, a look of silent agreement passed between us, before she produced another ice cube out of nowhere and followed my example, a spirit of experimentation on her face that was far less scientific than I was used to observing, far more sensual, yet no less intense.

Booth was still strangling the counter, and he had been keeping his eyes closed while he enjoyed the ride. Until, prompted by the desire to watch or sensing a subtle change in style, he opened his eyes to see his partner kneeling before him instead of me, her cheeks hollowing around his cock, and it was her mouth that was delivering the sensations that were undoubtedly propelling him straight to heaven.

He let out an unmanly squeak and jumped at the sight, spending a few moments in a distinctly uncomfortable pose before gradually relaxing and adjusting to the new reality. Of course this, minus me as the third wheel, _had_ to be one of his number one fantasies.

As we took turns trying to make Booth moan louder and louder with the most skilled and thorough oral attention he could possibly hope to receive, the odd camaraderie between us touched something in me, although even now the competitive spirit between us didn't abate; the jury was still out on whether that was reassuring or annoying. But certainly, Seeley profited either way.

The perfect arrangement presented itself as I envisioned myself as the patient mentor to a prodigy of a protégé, and sat behind her while her mouth and tongue rendered him delirious and incoherent.

I kissed the elegant, soft, pale column of her neck in between whispered encouragements and occasional instructions into her ear, reveling in my new role and her willingness to take direction from me. "Knead his ass. Tickle behind his balls. Faster…now slower. And squeeze his balls…now."

Indulging myself in fondling her breasts again, telling myself how much pleasure it gave her, I ran my tongue along the shell of her ear until I was sure I had her attention and whispered, grinning wickedly, "Know what really drives him nuts?"

She slowed for a moment while I told her, and she immediately set out to prove the validity of my prediction. Booth's moans grew louder and more urgent.

As if she was the one receiving pleasure, she moaned, vibrating into him. A couple more of those and he'd be done for.

Countless hours we'd spent in the lab while her pretty lips spouted off clinical, scientific lingo, but somehow I always knew about the fire within. She tended to him with fervor.

And Seeley was a goner; she was too good, and the sensory overload of feeling and seeing his partner like this were driving him to the edge like a big-rig jackknifing at 80 miles per hour on a rain-slicked highway, wildly and unstoppably skidding out of control.

And Brennan knew it too.

He shuddered when her lips slipped from his length, then whined when he realized she wasn't returning.

---

She tapped his chest and he opened his eyes, looking a little dazed.

"It's Cam's turn. We've been a little too selfish."

_Thank you God!_

She turned on her heels suddenly and held my eyes hostage, and my breath caught. The thought of all that intensity being turned toward me, and expressed physically, with her skills? I felt a fresh wave of wetness coating my center.

I released a breath in sheer relief when she released me from her intense stare to let her eyes wander down my form. Something Seeley had told me about her a long time ago came to mind unbidden as her piercing, meticulously observing eyes assessed me.

"_You've seen the way she looks at human remains before she makes a decision."_

"_Yes."  
__**"**__You're human remains and she hasn't made a decision yet."_

She had decided, already.

She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of her upper lip and _ohmygod_ smirked. The woman looked into my eyes and smirked at the thought of what she was going to do me. I wasn't sure my knees wouldn't give out.

She cocked her head at me, and the corner of her mouth twitched in a half-smile that was decidedly sexy. "You're wearing too many clothes, Cam."

I dumbly looked down, as if only now realizing that I was a step or two behind them in the disrobing process. Even though she was irrefutably right, and there was no question anymore that this would end with all three of us naked, I was still a little peeved that it made me feel like a dolt in the company of far superior intelligence. Maybe this is how Booth felt a lot of the time.

She stalked around me, in a predatory half-circle, and I nervously licked my lips. I felt like a zebra, about to be brought down by a lioness.

As a woman who liked to stay firmly in control of her sexual encounters, what surprised me the most was how much that turned me on. I had put myself at the mercy of whatever she planned to do to me next, and I fucking loved the suspense of it.

---

"Maybe I can help you with that," I heard her whispering from behind me, somewhere near the back of my head. She was leaning in close, making me strain to hear her and teasing me with her nearness.

Oh, Brennan loved the powerplay, that much was obvious. And I was enjoying it so much I gladly indulged her.

"Please," I told her, thankfully managing to keep an edge of neediness from my voice.

Booth was standing less than four feet across from me, his beautiful, hard body undisguised by even a scrap of fabric. Under _any_ other circumstances, I would have taken my sweet time enjoying the view.

But right now, my entire consciousness was filled up with the anticipation of what the woman behind me was planning next, and the thrill of not being able to see what she was doing.

She splayed her hands fully against my buttocks and I was embarrassed to find myself instinctively pressing myself into them to increase the contact. Her hands left my ass as quickly and suddenly as they had landed there, and traveled across my waist to my stomach.

The warm press of her hands on the sensitive skin of my lower belly made my clit pulse in anticipation, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to feel those hands travel lower, below the waistband of my shorts and…

But they traveled upwards instead, drawing whimsical patterns on my stomach that made my breath catch. I gasped when she found my nipples and tweaked them between thumb and forefinger undermy shirt.

Booth was doing that thing again where his eyes almost bugged out of his head, and gave his erection a rough tug, moaning gruffly. His raw desire flamed my own. God, I wanted him. His cock, his hands, his mouth. Touching me. Everywhere. And if there was a God, and he was kind, maybe both of them, him and her, at the same time.

"I think Booth wants that, too."

_What?_ Had I been so caught up in the pleasure of being touched like this that I had missed part of the conversation? _Oh. You helping me undress. Got it._

Suddenly I was ambushed by doubts and insecurities that had no place if I thought about it. Unexpectedly they reared their ugly little heads nevertheless. Doubts about being able to compete with the picture of feminine perfection that Brennan presented – the only one Booth truly lusted after – and even about being out of practice enough on the technical aspects of sex that this night would somehow turn into a total flop.

---

My eyes slipped shut, tired all of a sudden. "I'm not sure he still does, now that he's finally gotten his hands and his mouth on _your _spectacular rack," I sighed, suddenly deflated.

_Oh God. I hadn't meant to say that. Oh Lord, why did I have to say that out loud?_

The humor was evident in her voice when she retorted, "Hearing my boss tell me I've got great tits? Another thing I wasn't expecting when I walked into this kitchen earlier…"

Amused by her frank language, appreciating the humor in her observation, and thankful for her defusing a potentially uncomfortable moment – whether it was her intention or not – I couldn't help but close my eyes and grin. "Yes, Brennan, you have great tits."

She responded with a sincere and upbeat, "Thank you."

I could picture the self-satisfied look on her face even without seeing her, and shook my head enjoying the absurdity of it all.

She crossed her arms in front of my chest before pinching the hem of my tank top and lifting it over my head with surprising ease, after I obligingly lifted my arms. She dropped the garment to the floor and her fingers returned to my ribs, brushing the underside of my bare breasts.

"Well, _personally_, I've always felt…" she whispered seductively, and I couldn't help but wonder just how much personal experience was underlying her opinions on the subject.

"…That more than a hand full's a waste," she concluded as she cupped my breasts with both hands, encompassing them fully and expertly kneading the flesh underneath her palms and fingers. My eyes slipped shut in bliss, while I was beginning to see her point of view.

Usually the one to try and keep the squints on a tight leash, now I got to experience what wonderful things their big brains were capable of when given free reign, letting _her_ be in charge for once. And when I didn't have to plan or be responsible for deciding what happened next, all I had to do was concentrate on how good it felt.

---

When I opened my eyes again a few moments later, it was to the sight of Booth stroking himself in time to Brennan's rhythmic squeezing of my breasts. Turning my head a little, I noticed Brennan's eyes fixed on Booth's in a very intense stare.

Following her line of sight back to Booth, his eyes were boring into hers with a hot, liquid come-fuck-me-look, until he noticed my curious gaze. His eyes started flicking back and forth between Brennan's and my own in my first ever eye sex threesome, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip in anticipation as the full extent of his desire to participate played across his handsome features.

I was impressed with Brennan's savvy yet again as it sank in that she was giving me the attention I'd craved – and liked to think I deserved, by now – while at the same time keeping Booth entertained by giving him a titillating show. Ridiculously brilliant woman.

Booth reached beside him for the beer bottle that rested there, nearly forgotten, and took a long swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as a loud sigh of sublimated satisfaction escaped him.

"Aren't you going to be gracious enough to share that? It's only fair. We're thirsty, too. And tonight is _aaaall_ about sharing, isn't it, Booth?" Brennan cooed at Booth.

He had a dangerous look on his face as he pushed off the counter and moved towards us, with that treacherous, coiled languor of a cougar again.

Sauntering over and stopping just short of us, he looked at Brennan over my shoulder, and challenged, "You want to talk about fair? How is it fair that I'm already naked and you two are still wearing shorts?"

Brennan and I exchanged a look over my shoulder.

"Fine. You hand over that bottle to me and Cam in exchange for both our shorts," Brennan bargained, cool and matter-of-factly.

Bargaining a prize for something we had been about to give up willingly – ridiculously brilliant woman.

When he handed her the bottle she lifted it quickly and wrapped her lips around the rim, gulping greedily. His eyes were instantly glued to where her mouth surrounded the neck of the bottle, and it wasn't hard to imagine what images his mind was conjuring up.

She passed the bottle to me, and by the time I'd taken the first swig Brennan had already worked her shorts around her ankles and was swiftly kicking them away, along with her panties. Then she startled me with her quick grab for my waistband to remove mine. I reflexively covered her hands with my free hand and saw a flicker of hesitation, of uncertainty, in her gaze when it flashed up to my eyes.

* * *

_Note: *gasp* That won't be the end of this screen-meltingly hot ménage à trois, will it? WILL IT???  
Don't worry darlings, you won't have to wait *nearly* as long this time to find out in the next update. Looks like--2 more chapters, so...I'm not worried about how this will play out. You? ;-p  
_


	8. Chapter 6

**Title:** Folie à Trois 6

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

_Previously: She passed the bottle to me, and by the time I'd taken the first swig Brennan had already worked her shorts around her ankles and was swiftly kicking them away, along with her panties. Then she startled me with her quick grab for my waistband to remove mine. I reflexively covered her hands with my free hand and saw a flicker of hesitation, of uncertainty, in her gaze when it flashed up to my eyes._

_

* * *

  
_

It was comforting to know that, while all three of us were getting wrapped up, carried away, in the temptingly delicious, sinful, dirty hot scenario that had unexpectedly presented itself tonight, I was not the only one who wasn't as blasé about it as we had seemed until then.

So I gave her a knowing and sympathetic smile, and kissed her answering smile off her swollen lips as I pushed the waistband of my shorts and underwear down the first few inches, allowing her to take care of them the rest of the way.

With Brennan crouched before me, I stepped out of my shorts and let it top of the pile of our clothes, leaving all three of us naked and very ready for more. Then Brennan slowly came back up and sent me into a dizzying spin of desire as her nose brushed the damp curls covering my aching center, and she stopped to inhale the scent of my arousal. My hand landed on her shoulder for support before she smiled into my abdomen and pressed a soft kiss there.

When she was fully raised again, she found herself in a sandwich of Booth and me. His hands caressed her hips and brushed up her sides to her shoulders. He began to stroke and kiss her shoulders and neck, clearly to her satisfaction, and produced another ice cube that he used to soothe the faint pink blush on her slightly sunburned shoulders. The tenderness of the gesture stood in contrast to the raw want I felt bubbling up, as I stood drinking her in from head to toe.

I swallowed another drink of beer and offered her another sip as well, before I tried to quench my desire by kissing her, pacing myself. I probed her mouth hotly and greedily lapped up her taste, delighting in her busy, supple mouth eagerly responding to mine.

Temperance Brennan was a woman filled with a multitude of contrasts, and this kiss was all the more delicious because of it; traces of the mildly bitter taste of beer mingled with the sweetness of her mouth, and the sensation of the coolness of the liquid with the heat of her desire was dizzying.

Oh yes.

I wanted more of her, I wanted everything.

---

A little too wild, I kissed down her jaw, closed my mouth hungrily around her chin, sucked on her neck, biting and licking my way down as she moaned loudly in appreciation, until I reached the soft skin on her breasts and finally slowed.

Savoring the taste and the chance to explore it, I tried to fit as much of the pillowed flesh in my mouth as I could, and let my tongue read the landscape of the puckered aureole like Braille, until I reached the pebbled, peaked nipple.

Suckling and softly biting it, reveling the urgent moans and whimpers I was coaxing out of her, I had no idea what Booth was doing – and didn't particularly care – until Brennan jammed her fingers in my hair and forced out, "Cam…Uh…_please_."

That succinct message needed no further explanation for me, though apparently I was still ahead of Booth, who was still so lost in the wealth of skin that was revealed to him that he seemed to have momentarily lost the ability to remember what he was supposed to do with it all. Reducing Brennan to begging was a concept I couldn't quite grasp, but certainly couldn't let stand.

Considering my options, I stalled for a moment while I touched the cool bottle to her neck and dragged it between her breasts, feeling her shiver at the contrasting temperatures as I made my way down. I had traced a hipbone when I inevitably reached the neat thatch of curls that covered her center; the most secret part of her.

Suddenly I wasn't quite sure I was ready to touch her so intimately, and I cowardly willed Booth to get his shit together so he could do these honors, which seemed more appropriate anyway – and fair, considering I'd already stolen the premiere of putting my mouth on her breasts away from him.

As he continued to drag his heels, and Brennan was making desperate keening sounds to urge me on, I decided to do what needed doing and, that decision made, the prospect became instantly more thrilling.

---

Feeling wicked tonight, I pushed the rim of the cold beer bottle against the heat between her legs and dragged it from back to front in lieu of my hand, not completely ready to deal with the reality of being allowed to touch her like this.

My clit pulsed in sympathy as she moaned, simultaneously gratified by the touch and frustrated by its inadequacy. It was time to replace the glass implement with the much more sophisticated instrument of my hand, and as I brought my fingers closer to her center, I felt the heat radiating onto my skin.

I tested with one finger and it came back dripping from arousal. That deserved attention – and relief – if not from Seeley, then from me. If I could get myself off, then I could damn well figure out how to get another woman off once I flipped the mental switch; I knew how the parts operated, and her responses would tell me all I needed to know about whether I was revving up the engine.

Her silky wet heat felt simultaneously strange and yet familiar too; not _entirely_ unlike having my own body surrounding my finger, but still with its own unique, different texture and feel to it. As I added another finger and slowly pumped up into her, my thumb finding and briefly skimming her clit at regular intervals, her hands were tightly gripping my hand and wrist, controlling the amount of pressure she wanted.

She was rolling her hips against my hand, mouth open and eyes closed in pleasure, quaking and moaning low in her throat. It was possibly the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. A day ago, the thought of being up to my knuckles in her body would have been ludicrous and unthinkable, and yet here we were, completely lost in the pleasure of it.

It was the increased pitch of her moans that finally alerted Booth that we were moving forward without him, and made him to come to his senses. His eyes widened as he noticed the movements of our hands. He gasped, and stuttered breathlessly, "God. Bones… That's… Shit, that's hot."

Her muscles contracted around my fingers at that, and she could do nothing more than hum in acknowledgement. His fingers trailed up over her ribs and sought out the sensitive skin of her breasts, massaging with a firm, confident touch, and skill. She leaned back into the solid bulk of his body as he pressed himself more closely against her back, and she surrendered to his touch. _Our_ touch.

"Are you feeling good, Bones? I hope you're feeling good. I think you are. I'm glad Cam is making you feel that way, even though I wish it were me making you feel like this. I want you to feel so good. You deserve that."

At that, her eyes flew open and met mine with a startled expression. "No!"

My busy fingers stilled, as I failed to immediately comprehend her reaction. Neither did Booth. "Of course you do."

"No," she insisted, removing my hand with obvious regret. The wetness coating my fingers cooled to the air. "I promised Cam it was her turn now," she explained, "and this felt so good I let myself get carried away, but I shouldn't."

"Bones… What about you?" Booth continued to argue against his better judgment. Brennan with her mind made up was an unstoppable force of nature, if anyone knew that, it was him.

"I can wait. I told you, I promised Cam it was her turn now." Her mouth was talking to Booth, but her eyes were talking to me.

And _oh holy crap_ now she was going to turn that force of nature on _me_.

---

One slim finger dipped into my wetness and curled into me; precisely, expertly. For a brief moment I thought I might come right there, but then the intensity of the pleasure receded. God, I needed it back, and I craved it tenfold.

"More….I need more."

She smiled in approval of my assertiveness and promptly added another finger, slowly pumping in and out, every few moments with her thumb rubbing my clit.

Damn she was good at this.

But I still had an ache much deeper inside, that her fingers couldn't reach.

"I need…" I forced out. "Uh. I need…" And I bucked desperately against her hand before I could finish the sentence.

She studied me like a specimen, while her fingers continued their stimulating gymnastics.

"Typically, at this stage of arousal, I require penile stimulation," she deadpanned.

Seeley and I exchanged a look – _this was her idea of dirty talk?_ Lord, I hoped she could do better.

"Do _you _require penile stimulation?" she inquired, all business.

"Oh! Yes," I ground out, squirming around her fingers, my brow coated in sweat.

She turned to Booth, letting her fingers slide out of my body – leaving me in rapidly increasing panic – but continuing to massage the outside of my center slowly.

"Booth? What are you waiting for?"

Booth stood watching, stroking himself to give himself some relief. I imagined what he had just witnessed from his perspective and didn't know whether to cheer for him or feel sorry for him.

He returned her look, taken aback. "What? You want me to…?" He gestured to me with his hand.

"Yes!" she confirmed impatiently. I had witnessed that bossy, pissy "_I don't understand why you don't understand this_" tone and facial expression a million times on the forensic platform. In this setting it was more amusing, but still equally effective.

_Yes, ma'am._

"But if you come, I'll kill you," she added. And I was fairly certain she wasn't kidding. A small measure of territorial urges wasn't foreign to her after all, it seemed.

Brennan leaned back against the counter with her arms on either side of me while Booth stood behind me. She put me in a sandwich of Booth and her.

I kissed her while Booth was thrusting into me from behind, his thick girth filling me deliciously, but the position was awkward because we were both upright, and he was holding himself back for fear of not doing Brennan any good once it was her turn.

I was going mad with the frustration of staying just out of reach of an orgasm that teased me with its force, but wouldn't deliver yet.

Brennan must have recognized my frustrated whimpers and – bless her heart – wouldn't let it stand. But her solution surprised the hell out of me.

.

_TBC..._

.


	9. Chapter 7

**Title:** Folie à Trois 7 (FINAL)

**Timeline:** pre-season 4 (late season 2 or season 3)

**Summary:** Was I seriously going to try and seduce _both_ my ridiculously attractive co-workers at the same time?

* * *

**CHAPTER 7 (FINAL)**

_Previously: Brennan must have recognized my frustrated whimpers and – bless her heart – wouldn't let it stand. But her solution surprised the hell out of me.  
--_

She addressed him by name to draw his attention. "Let's switch places. I want to try something."

His response was automatic.

Anything she wanted. Anything at all.

Bless the woman for having the good sense not to threaten his fragile ego.

She flipped me against the counter, helped me hop on it and when she kissed me again, she thrust her tongue against mine in a very deliberate and promising manner, I felt a fresh wave of arousal wash over me. I liked the way the woman was thinking.

Hopefully, so would Seeley. When she released my mouth with a wet pop we shared a secret smile. Resting her hands lightly on my thighs, she let my anticipation build while she turned her head to capture Seeley's mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss.

I shivered as I watched her tongue lap at his mouth and tongue, in anticipation of what she might do with them when she focused her attentions on me next.

She backed up into him to make room and folded at the waist, rubbing her bottom in his groin in invitation.

He held her hips between his large hands as he moved to complete the moment he'd been looking forward to for too long, and I reminded myself that we had all entered into this knowingly and willingly, because for just the briefest moment I felt like I shouldn't be here to witness this.

Over the curve of her back, I watched his eyes slip shut and his jaw go slack. Deliriously happy, as if he'd just taken a hit of the world's most powerful drug.

_His _most powerful drug, for sure.

Her face melted into the picture of bliss the moment he entered her, a blend of their long, shuddering sighs and oohs audible.

Then she sought my eyes to reassure me that she wouldn't forget about me.

Booth was still restraining himself, though with increasing difficulty, until Brennan could fully concentrate on her own orgasm.

I was already so on edge when she turned her focus on her new goal – my orgasm – that I half-suspected I would come like a freight train the moment she touched me. All done for, in two seconds flat.

But she took her time working up to it, turning me on even more. Her hands skimmed lightly up my calves and stroked the back of my knees. The muscles in my thighs trembled in response to her feather light touch up the inside of my thighs. I felt almost pathetically needy, but refused to beg just yet.

I was quaking by the time she reached the apex of my legs, my center throbbing and aching. The feeling was only increased by the musical thrumming of her fingertips on my clit, which was stimulating but not enough to give relief.

I folded. "Please," I whimpered softly. Just as my eyes closed, her mouth was on me, mercifully.

I melted against her tongue as it flattened against the throbbing hot core of nerves below, and I wanted to scream but couldn't produce a sound. The exact same result happened when the heavenly sensation of pebbled wet softness suddenly left me again.

Thankfully, she returned just as soon and started an easy, almost teasing choreography with her tongue, first dragging it slowly around my clit, then a fast swipe but pulling away before the stimulation fully registered.

Meanwhile, Booth was mostly just lost in the sensation of moving inside her, until now. Standing behind Brennan, he opened his eyes for a moment and looked down but frowned at the picture in front of him, and I imagined it was kind of a shocker to see his partner like that (not for the first time tonight). And kind of a major turn-on too. Instant visual overload.

As long as he wasn't having second thoughts. So I tugged him in for a kiss over her head to help him remember how much this was turning him on. And how much it was turning _me_ on. That big, sexy brain of hers had figured out the perfect arrangement for this, and she made sure to give both of us equal amounts of pleasure from herself.

_Thank you, Brennan, for being the creative and giving lover you are._

We worked in perfect tandem, her rapt attention to my responses ensuring that my every wish and need was met almost before I aware of having it myself, and I moved with her instinctively to find the perfect amount of stimulation.

My arousal soared impossibly higher, my synapses firing like a Fourth of July fireworks display, as she doubled her efforts, making me lightheaded and creating a buzzing in my ears. I couldn't stand this much longer. I needed, I needed…

Sensing the right moment for it, she closed her lips and tongue fully around my clit and began sucking and grinding her tongue against it in earnest, her mouth ravenous as if she were eating the most succulent, ripe fruit after a three-day fast. Adding the absolutely perfect amount of pressure and movement and suction to make me…

Make me…

Suspended for one moment in that curious state before all hell breaks loose, I let myself soar through the sky and then free-fall.

With a low growl the orgasm ripped through me and delivered blessed, blissful release from the unbearable tension coiling within me. I bucked and thrashed longer than I thought possible, her lips still drawing wave after wave of exquisite pleasure out of me. When my body finally began to still, aside from the trembling of aftershocks, I was dazed but in awe.

I've had men go down on me and achieve very satisfying results – Seeley was no slouch either – but she was so in tune with precisely the kind of touch I needed, so…intuitive, it was insane. I wasn't sure I wanted to know how and where exactly she acquired skills like this, but then again, this was Brennan, who was just ridiculously talented at everything she did, so why not this, too?

When the white spots in front of my eyes began to dissipate, the roaring in my ears quieted a little, and conscious thought slowly returned, I was filled with a strong sense of purpose. Brennan deserved at least as much pleasure as I had just enjoyed. And in a stroke of pure, post-orgasmic clarity, I knew the perfect setup.

I scooted back on the counter and motioned for her to join me. She sat between my opened legs, my still-throbbing sex nestled against her bottom, after she had maneuvered carefully to the edge.

After positioning himself in between, and bringing her knees up to his hips, Booth kissed us both deeply, bringing us together once again as partners in crime.

His face scrunched up in concentration.

Brennan had instantly realized, I knew, the appeal of this position. She could surrender herself completely to our joined attentions, Booth with his throbbing cock in front of her, and from behind her my hands caressing her, pinching her nipples and with her clit in reach of my fingertips. I'd shed all my inhibitions about touching her, and was willing – yearning, even – to do whatever it took to make her feel as good as she had made me feel.

Booth was still trying to go slow, but I could feel her body quivering against me, more than ready.

I sucked on her earlobe and whispered hotly, "Temperance. What do you want?"

Booth pushed into her once more. She moaned, her head lolling back for a moment. Then she raised it again, sought Booth's eyes, pinned him, and they were instantly lost in each other.

"Fuck me," she whispered.

He growled and his hips slammed against her.

Her request grew bolder and louder. "I want you to fuck me with all you've got, Booth."

Thank god. There was the dirty talk, finally.

Firm-voiced as her need for release quickly grew desperate, she commanded unabashedly, "You will hold nothing back."

She probably squeezed down on him, because his jaws ground together, fighting for control.

She rolled her hips. "Fuck me!" she growled again, as if he needed more encouragement.

Booth was like heavy machinery; he rolled into motion slowly but once in gear, after her feral growl, he would be roaring to life, unstoppable, pounding, thumping.

It was a good thing the old lady upstairs was deaf as a post, because her ecstatic cries as he finally pistoned into her, sweat-slicked, his hair plastered on his brow, could wake the dead.

Their eyes were glued together and the intensity in Seeley's eyes was awe-inspiring – I couldn't remember ever seeing him like this before.

And, as it so often happened when the two of them were together, they forgot that anyone else, including me, was even there. But…I _was_ there, and I _didn't_ forget that, thankfully, because I could make myself quite useful.

When her moans grew desperate I pinched a nipple with one hand and flicked her clit with two fingers of the other hand, and within minutes that seemed like seconds, she was coming hard, with an unearthly sound.

Booth yelled her name, and yelled for help – the divine kind – while his eyes rolled back into his head.

As Brennan was thrashing and bucking wildly in the throes of an almost frighteningly intense orgasm, I anchored her to me prevent her slipping off the now-slippery edge.

As she slowly came down and recovered, I could feel her heart hammering under my hand, where it still rested on the slope of her breast, and her rapid panting was ragged and raspy.

She had come undone so violently that I instinctively began calming her the way I would a hysterical child, softly cooing and stroking her forehead.

When Seeley looked at me his pupils were the size of saucers under eyelids that barely managed to stay open.

"That was…" he croaked. But he had no words.

"Fucking amazing," I finished, utterly sincere; slightly more coherent, but no less blown away.

"Bones, you alive?"

"No," she rasped, still breathing heavily.

She cracked a joke. Oh my word. The ever-literal Doctor Brennan just cracked a joke.

She swallowed. "I stand corrected. There is a heaven after all. I am nothing if not an empirical scientist, and I have just witnessed it personally, with my own powers of perception."

She giggled. Booth giggled. We all laughed, breathlessly, giddy with euphoria.

Eventually we sobered up enough to realize we needed to do a little cleaning up, and we needed to sleep, and some time to ourselves to process what had happened between us.

Two minutes later all traces of what had transpired in that kitchen had been erased – except the ones in my memory; those would be etched in forever.

I threw a smile over my shoulder when I reached my bedroom door, but it turned awkward by the time it reached my lips.

Booth shared a look with Brennan, giving her some sort of unspoken permission to let this be and just go into her room. She nodded her understanding.

Perhaps the creaky floorboards not much later, when I was already half-asleep, exhausted and sated, meant that he was sneaking into her room.

Perhaps it was just a figment of my imagination.

I didn't care anymore. If there was anything I learned tonight, it was that I never was, or ever could be, more than playtime for Seeley Booth.

THE END

_

* * *

__Note: I hope you're satisfied with the way I handled the Booth/Cam dynamic in light of the Booth/Brennan relationship--I know plenty of you feel a little "icky" about the Cam/Booth pairing, so I tried to give this story a nice balance between a lingering attraction, and it being NO match for the BoBo OTP. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it; this one was a BLAST.  
_


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